


HOW BAD CAN I POSSIBLY BE? (let's see.)

by robmit



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017), Macbeth - Shakespeare, The Lorax (2012)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Discussion of Abortion, F/F, F/M, Forestry, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robmit/pseuds/robmit
Summary: Idea and much of the plot by myself and Julian @CARR1NGTONS. Written by myself.The Onceler and Jeff Colby are more similar than they think. Two businessmen determined to make it against all odds in a world that has only ever brought them down, fate brings them to the same small forest. But fate has more than a professional relationship in store for these two.
Relationships: Adam Carrington/Lady Macbeth, Alexis Carrington/Rick Morales, Fallon Carrington & Original Female Character(s), The Onceler/Jeff Colby
Kudos: 3





	1. where the wind smells slow and sour when it blows

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry that I have not yet updated Robmit! It's coming soon; I promise. I hope that this suffices. It's a storyline I'm incredibly excited about and one of the most interesting ship dynamics I've ever come up with, in my opinion! This story IS rated a little higher- nothing NSFW, but there will be discussions of violence and other things that I've tagged- please proceed with caution. 
> 
> (For all intents and purposes, Atlanta and Thneedville are one and the same- it was renamed after the Once-ler's great product after the time this takes place.)
> 
> This chapter is an intro to Jeff's perspective!

(Jeff's Perspective)

I feel like I've spent my life building up speed for an uphill run that will inevitably end in failure. 

Not that I'm unprepared- oh my God, I'd never describe myself that way. Too much confidence in what I've built and what it means for the people around me, whether that's good or bad. Trust me, I try to stay away from arrogance because it's what plagues the people I hate the most, but I'll admit my successes. The majority of my recent life has been one big happy ending according to everyone on the outside.

That's the thing about people on the outside. They see the flashy clothes and expensive cars, the school scholarships that paved my way to the top postsecondary institutions in the country. Their eyes focus on sunny, practiced smiles that give off an air of good-natured confidence. I was a theatre kid in high school- I wonder if they know that? I can act my way out of any situation. Dodging unwanted questions is second nature when you grew up having to do it every day. ...No, I DON'T hide my history, and I'm prouder of my family than I'd like to let on. Being seen as the underdog has its advantages at times, although I feel I've outgrown the title. 

What's it like on the inside? I'm sure a lot of people think they know that. My sister, for one. I love her more than almost anyone, but she thinks she knows me on a level I'm not even sure I'm able to understand myself. Just because we grew up together doesn't mean she's inside my mind. And... Fallon, god, she has the same problem, but my issues with her go back so far that I won't be able to articulate them in such short time. I'm sure I'm not the only one she thinks she understands. 

I've been trying not to care about ANY of that lately. My family, the Carringtons, my ex-wife (who is sort of a Carrington- yeah, it was a business decision, okay? Leave me alone), anyone in Atlanta. There's so much going on in my head that can only be worked out if I take some time for myself. REAL time off- it sounded crazy to me for the longest time, but I have far more money and time than I know what to do with and far more trauma than either of those things can easily fix.

(Fallon told me she'd be my therapist. I refused, thank goodness. That woman is not qualified in any way to give OTHER people advice, let alone herself.) 

I'm going to the forest now. I chose an unassuming car, one that's been in my garage for God knows how long. It's an hour or two out of the city, and I've been told by Monica that if you want to relax and clear your head, there's no better place. The reviews online said that there's rare types of flora and fauna that can't be seen anywhere else in the country. I don't trust Google Maps reviews ever since Fallon paid Sam $20 to change all of Morell Corp's to 5 star ones specifically talking about how smart and capable she was, but maybe I shouldn't be so cynical this time? I can't quite remember what the trees are called there- Monica told me that I should avoid all images until I get there, like this forest is some kind of amazing movie that's only good if seen spoiler-free, and I reluctantly agreed- as someone who likes to know what they're getting into, it felt a bit odd, but as previously stated, I could really use a break.


	2. in which the once-ler meets a new friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was incredibly fun to write, as both Jeff and the Once-ler are really rewarding characters to portray. I just hope I'm doing it right!

(Once-ler’s Perspective)

MAN, is it ever nice to be out in the open air again!

Ever since I was a child, I’ve only really felt at home when I was in nature. Whether it’s because I can’t stand my family’s judgemental bickering, or that people on the whole just confuse me, or maybe just because I grew up on a farm, it’s an absolutely unbeatable feeling. My mule, Melvin, clip-clops at a comfortable pace out in front of me as I sit in my wagon, watching the world go by. Yeah, he’s doing all the work, but, for the first time in my life, I’M the one at the reins. Not just in a literal sense. Now that I’m off to live on my own, no one can tell me what to do except myself. And I have so many ideas! 

Entrepreneurial spirit doesn’t exactly run deep in my family. When I told my mother about my brilliant idea to build a Thneed, she laughed in my face. Not that I’m not used to that, it’s just… for once in my life, when I finally had an idea worth something, she wouldn’t even consider that maybe it might work. That was the breaking point for deciding to go off on my own. If she or my brothers and aunt had believed in me, they would have been completely free to get their own wagons and join me on my journey! That didn’t exactly pan out, so now they’re stuck at home while I venture off into the great unknown.

I like to sing to myself when I travel. Songs about my future- I make them up as I go along, no idea whether I’m hitting the right notes or whether the lyrics make any sense, just letting the inspiration come to me as it wishes. It’s about the Thneed right now. What a subject! I could go on about its glories for hours, if only anyone would listen. I’ll make them listen, just you wait and see. 

Suddenly, Melvin brays and I’m brought out of my thoughts and back into the real world. Where has he taken me? I’m not too picky about directions, so if I’m being honest, I’m not quite sure where in the world we’ve found ourselves. But… oh my god. Oh my GOD.

The Truffula Tree is something I’d only ever heard about in books… the fictional kind, that my mother would read to my little brothers before bed, telling them that such things only exist in the imagination. They sway gently in the breeze, beautiful tufts of every colour looking as soft as silk. What was that rhyme that I heard about them? It went something like that. They’re tall, slender things, dotted around the landscape in such great numbers that they’re the only thing I can pay attention to at first. I’m not quite tall enough to reach the tufts, but the texture must be unimaginably luxurious.

I hop out of the wagon, stubbing my toe on one of the wheels as I touch the ground. The pain doesn’t even register with me as I dance delightedly over to one of the trees. I’m like a little boy again in this moment, aware that what I’m doing is embarrassing but with no desire to stop. This moment is just too good to be true.  
The tuft nearest me moves ever so slightly and I gaze up at juuuust the wrong moment and- ow. OWWW. What on earth just fell on my head, and why is it so fuzzy and heavy at the same time? I look down and there’s a face grinning up at me. Okay, I can’t be mad at that, it’s simply too cute.

“What are you, little buddy?” I reach out to touch his head and he gives me another smile. It’s a bear of some sort, perhaps, but charmingly docile and smaller than any I’ve ever seen, although it seems to be an adult. Obviously, the bear doesn’t answer, but instead gets back onto its feet and starts to climb the Truffula tree again. He’s oddly dextrous for someone of his statue, especially someone lacking opposable thumbs. 

Above me, a sonorous honk rings out. I used to birdwatch with my brothers when we were young, but this looks- and sounds- like no bird I’ve ever seen before.   
“C’mere!” I try to flag the bird down with a wave of my hand, but he doesn’t even look my way. Nature here seems entirely unconcerned with humanity- maybe I’m one of the first people ever to come to this part of the forest? That doesn’t sound right, but it would explain the behaviour of the animals. 

Melvin stomps and gives me a whinny of dissatisfaction- it’s not often that I go this long without paying attention to him. I turn around and pat him on the head. “Hey, man, without you we wouldn’t be here at all! You’re the one who brought us to… wherever this is. That’s pretty impressive!” He doesn’t respond, obviously, but I think he would appreciate the sentiment if he could understand human speech. 

Now, an idea’s been brewing in my head since the moment I got there, and I have no idea how to put it into action. When I picture the Thneed in my mind, there are some specifications that absolutely have to be there, or else it isn’t going to work. First of all, TEXTURE. Who buys something that can be a piece of clothing or a towel or a hat or- you get the drift- without it feeling relatively nice on the hands? Us humans are a picky sort, and we want to know that what goes on our bodies won’t irritate them. Second of all, COLOUR. I like my products flashy. So much of marketing is getting yourself and what you have to offer in the memory of your customers, so that even if they’re not interested at first, it stays with them. And then maybe, just maybe they’ll think twice and come back to make a purchase. I’ve seen it happen before. 

This entire journey started as a result of me attempting to find a fabric that fit those two characteristics to my satisfaction (that, and I just really needed a break from my family). And here it is, right in front of me!

“Yes, I’m talking about the Truffula tree!” I’ve been monologuing that entire thing to Melvin- it gets easier to make up responses on his behalf when you’ve done it for a while, and he’s been my most reliable friend for most of my childhood. To his credit, he gives me a nod and a stamp of his hoof. 

“So, now that I have your approval, I just have to figure out how to get all the way up… there.” 

Melvin gives me a quizzical look, as if to say “Once-ler! You absolute fool! Any way you try to climb that tree will result in you falling down and smacking your awkwardly long legs on the ground!” 

“You’re not wrong, old friend, but I am DETERMINED.” 

The tree’s thin enough that I can almost wrap my hand around it, which doesn’t bode well for it being able to support my weight, but I grip it firmly with both hands above my head and try to shift my weight towards my legs. I’m a decently athletic guy and I grew up on a farm having to do all sorts of weird gymnastics in order to get outdoor chores done, so this shouldn’t be too hard. My right shoe has a good grip on the tree so I slowly attempt to shift upwards… and upwards… and upwards… I’m climbing it! Perfect! “Shimmying up like a slug” is probably a more accurate description, but the ground is getting further away, so it doesn’t matter how ridiculous I look. 

Now, how exactly am I going to get my entire body onto this tuft? As previously stated, I have ridiculously long legs. Maybe that could be used as an advantage? Utilising all of my lower body strength, I attempt to raise my leg above my arms and rest it on top of the tuft, hoping that the texture will be such that I won’t slip down. It works well enough- now for the second leg. Up, up, u- wait, what? Are those footsteps down below me, creeping closer and closer and closer? No, no, I’m imagining it, and even if I’m not, my body’s in a precarious enough position that I need to focus on keeping myself off the -  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-  
[THUMP.]

Ground. The- ow, my HEAD is covered with DIRT- ground. And I’m right back where I started.

In more pressing matters, those definitely were human footsteps because some sort of shadow is currently looming above me, and he definitely saw me fall. I’m a classy man who likes to make a good first impression, so I cover my eyes, curl up into a little ball and let out an ear-piercing shriek. 

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-” 

“Do you need some help getting up?” 

Before I can answer, or even stop screaming, a strong hand is on mine and whoever this strange man is is pulling me to my feet. 

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE- oh, uh, thank you?”

He laughs. “I think you can open your eyes now.” 

“I’d rather not… I mean, you just saw me fall out of a tree for a few seconds and I’m no good with new people, so I’d appreciate it if you just backed away and left me alone for the rest of my life. Three… two… o-”

“No, no, no. You’re bleeding a little out of your right leg, and I’ve got a band-aid in my pocket. Please, just sit down and I can help you out a little.”

Reluctantly, I open one eye and then immediately snap it shut again. This time I open both, albeit very slowly, and take a look at the man in front of me. 

“Why is someone with such a fashionable suit visiting a forest in the middle of nowhere?” I realize that I’m speaking out loud just a little too late, and try to play it off by changing the subject. “I’m the Once-ler, by the way. And this mule is Melvin. Uh… nice to meet you? Thanks for helping me up?” 

Somehow, the man’s not phased by any of this. “This isn’t even one of my nicer suits. And the name is Jeff- Jeff Colby. Maybe you’ve heard of me? I don’t mean to brag, but over in Atlanta I’m quite the up-and-coming entrepreneur.”

“I-I’ve never been to Atlanta, big cities scare me, but I’m sure you’re very… talented, sir?” 

He sits down on a nearby rock and gives me a smile filled with barely-contained laughter. “No need to call me sir, Once-ler. Pleased to meet you, though.” 

“...Yeeeeeees. Uh, my leg is starting to hurt. Do you think I could take you up on that band-aid?” 

I sit down next to him- it’s not a very big rock that we’re trying to share, but I attempt to give him some space. While he shuffles through his pockets, I can’t help but notice that he’s extremely well put-together in every way from his shoes to his hair. The man clearly has money. I grew up in a rural area where “rich” meant that you have two flocks of sheep instead of one, so I have to admit that I’m just a tad overwhelmed. Even the band-aid that he pulls out of his pocket seems to be some sort of fancy-name brand one.

“Is that bandage MONOGRAMMED WITH YOUR INITIALS????!!!!!” I don’t mean to sound judgemental, it’s just… why, Jeff, why?

“My company had these done up a few months back for a promotional campaign we were doing to try to encourage the city council to invest in us. Bandages just made sense in the context of what we were trying to represent- a sort of healing presence in the community, and a whole lot of name-brand recognition. We sent 30 000 of these out to local pharmacies and grocery stores and sold every single one.”

He rolls up my pants a little bit to where the injury is and gently places the band-aid on my leg, patting it down. I have to admit that it’s a very high-quality product, and an oddly comforting gesture from someone I only met a few minutes ago. “Wow- I’m an entrepreneur too, and it sounds like you really know your stuff! I mean, I grew up in the middle of nowhere so I’m not an expert on anything, really, just a guy trying to find his way, but that’s… really neat.”

“Don’t be ashamed of your origins,” he says, adding a sudden solemnity to his tone. “No one expected me to be where I was today except myself. I’ve been realizing more and more lately that the best businesspeople are those who have a drive to go beyond what they came from. What kind of business do you want to run?”

“Uhhhhh… I guarantee that it’s a long enough story that you won’t care.” I smile sheepishly at him. What would this man with his fancy suits, eloquent speech and confident demeanour have to say about my Thneed? Big-city people have an elegance to them that has always thrown me off, especially those who have managed to make a name for themselves. Normally you can’t get me to shut up about my Thneed, but this is the first real businessman I’ve ever met and I want him to think well of me- why, I can’t quite explain. There’s a nervous feeling at the pit of my stomach that I can’t put a name to, so I ignore it and look back at Jeff for his response.

“No. No, no, no. We’re in the same boat here- just two people excited about business, telling their stories. You listened to all of the facts about Colby Corp. bandages, I can spare some time for whatever you have to offer.” 

“Wow… okay, where do I begin?” 

Jeff and I talk. We REALLY talk- not like the conversations I have with my family where I can barely get a word in, or the conversations with people back home that are just failed sales pitches. He’s interested in the Thneed, and I can tell because of the way his eyes immediately light up when I tell him about all its potential. Somehow, him and I are on the same level- we have so many commonalities that the differences just fade away as we talk business and learn more about each others’ lives. We’re both hesitant to talk about our childhoods, which makes things a whole lot less awkward, and instead we turn to the future. He has a way of making every idea he has sound brilliant. Somehow, he has even more money than I initially thought, but that would probably be rude to mention so I try to keep my comments (and very impressed stares) to myself. 

By the time we finish talking, the sun is starting to go down, and something within me feels like I’ve embarked on the first step of my journey, one I never would have gone down without my new friend. Whether it’s luck or fate that took us both to this forest, or some other force entirely, remains to be seen.


End file.
